


Lusty Laser Tag

by awkward_ace



Series: Bohemian Rhapsody in Blue [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Confessions, Elvhen Dirty Talk, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Laser Tag, Love Confessions, M/M, Public Make Outs, Romance, pizza and beer and friends, sort of smut, steamy make outs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkward_ace/pseuds/awkward_ace
Summary: Somewhere between drink five and ten, someone shouted 'laser tag', which now finds them in the middle of an arena, and some of the last combatants on the field. On a slightly drunken impulse, he kisses her, and she kisses back. This round of laser tag led to a little more than either of them expected.Inspired by an OTP prompt:While laser tagging, push against the wall, kiss me, shoot me, then walk away.





	Lusty Laser Tag

**Author's Note:**

> A few things of note:
> 
> Haldir is one of my Inquisitor's. My first dude Quizzie, in fact, and he has a serious thing going with Dorian (since you can only pick one in the game). In my headcannon, he's got a nice thing going with Bull and Dorian. And Dorian is a spoiled rotten prince in the threesome. "Haldoribull" is their shortened, combined name. Haldir is Pria's cousin, in my writing involving her, such as this. They're close, and tend to get into trouble together. 
> 
> Mahaal is my newest Quizzie. He's not related to Hal or Pria, but he's their friend, and he's been making serious eyes at Cassandra. I'm still getting to know him, but I do know he can beat-box.

No sharks with lasers on their foreheads here

 

It was all a little unclear how they had ended up laser tagging. The night had started at Haldoribull’s place, where there had been homemade pizza in abundance and copious amounts of beer. Everyone had gotten sufficiently tipsy, and somewhere between drink five and ten, someone had suddenly shouted “Laster tag!” (Sera? Memory had it as Sera’s voice) and they had all agreed uproariously.

And now Cullen found himself in a laser tag arena, somewhere he had not been since he was about sixteen, and he was doing rather well, if he did say so himself. He was still _in_ the game, which was more than could be said for a good deal of them, judging from the amount of noise that was coming from outside the arena.

Haldir had started up a rousing, loud rendition of “Weelia Wallia”, and Sera had happily joined in. Mahaal was providing colorful commentary with assistance from Krem and Iron Bull, who had acquired pitchers of beer from somewhere. Varric was watching the lot of them with a laughing smile, a tankard near his elbow. No doubt there would be a fond posting on his blog, the following day. So, by process of elimination, that meant it was just him, Dorian, Pria, and Cassandra on the field.

And all three of his opponents were being unhelpfully _sneaky_ , because he hadn’t seen anyone in about five minutes with his own sneaking around.

He peered out from behind the low wall he was crouched behind, saw no one, and crept his way across the gap, to a higher section, and carefully turned the corner, tucking down as he made his way to the place it met up with another wall. He was just in time to hear someone running, and laughing.

“Get back here and meet your end!” Dorian called from somewhere.

“No way!” Pria shouted back.

She was closer, probably the person running. Cullen grinned and moved towards the end of the wall, heard her nearing, and waited.

_Not yet…just…now!_

He reached out, arm snagging her around the waist and pulling her aside, behind the wall with him. She shrieked in surprise, an arm going around his neck instinctively as she was lifted from the ground.

“Nonotfairtrucenoshootingwhilegrabbing!”

He laughed as he set her back on her feet and she relaxed as she saw him. “Cullen! Don’t scare me like that!” she fussed, swatting him on the chest as she grinned. They heard quick footsteps, and both froze, biting back laughter as they pressed against the wall, eyeing the edge as they listened.

The person paused in their jog, considering their direction, then took off somewhere to the left, away from them.

Pria snickered and pushed the hair from her face, a few strands curling and sticking to the sweat on her forehead. “Truce for a minute? I need to breathe—I’ve been running from that Vint for the last ten minutes,” she said.

“I suppose, for a minute,” he conceded. “Why is he being so persistent, did you annoy him?”

“Nope! Just what we do whenever we go laser tagging. One of us always gets the other.”

“Ah, old grudges, got it.”

“Something like that. I take it you’re having fun? You’ve been smiling and laughing more tonight than I’ve seen this whole time we’ve been acquainted.”

“I am, but some of it is _probably_ because I’m a little drunk.”

She grinned, “A little, huh?”

“A little,” he confirmed.

“Hm. And we’ve had a lot of beer. What does hard liquor do, then?”

“I might start singing. And it makes my clothes come off very easily.”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to determine if he was joking, and waiting for his blush. When his blush didn’t come, she grinned wickedly, “Right. So, I’m going to hoard that secret for myself, then, because this inquiring mind wants to know what a clothesless Cullen looks like, and I have some Tevene brandy at my place…”

“I don’t believe that you would ply me with hard liquor to get me naked.”

“Mm. Yeah, you’re right, not without your okay to do so. Cullen, can I have permission to give you liquor and play Wicked Grace?”

“I was all for that idea until you said Wicked Grace.”

“Aaaw! Dammit. How about chess?”

“Nope. Too late now.”

She laughed and he grinned, an easy, boyish expression that fit his face well. “I don’t know which is cuter,” she said, “Your blushing or you a little loopy.”

“Cute! Who are you calling ‘cute’?”

“You, Rutherford, you’re adorable.”

“That’s _Commander_ Rutherford, Ser Lavellan, and I am _not_ ‘adorable’.”

“Yes, _ser_ , Commander Cute-Stuff.”

It was probably because he had just enough alcohol in his system that he was brave enough to act on his impulse, and to be sure, to not overthink, to feel comfortable that it would be acceptable to her.

“‘Cute’, my ass,” he growled playfully, and gently but firmly grabbed the harness around her chest to push her back into the wall, stepping into her at the same time to pin her in place. She gasped slightly in surprise, a sound that was interrupted when he kissed her. A half second went by as her mind caught up with her, and then she was melting into him, a hand hooking into his belt and pulling him into her as she kissed him back.

Cullen sighed, moving his hand from the harness to cradle her neck, feeling with strange clarity through his somewhat muddled mind where her breasts, hips, and thighs were pressed into his and finding that her lips were soft and full and fit against his in a way that had him deepening their kiss without even really thinking about it. His tongue swept her lip, and her mouth opened, letting him in to taste and explore, swallowing the soft, somewhat heated moan that escaped her. Her hips shifted against his a little and he groaned at the surge of heat that went up his back, pulled back breathing a little heavily.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, fisting the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in, biting his lip as she kissed him hungrily. His breathing hitched sharply as another groan came out, shivering faintly as she sucked lightly and ran the edge of her tongue inside. “Pria,” he whispered as her mouth parted from his for a bare moment, and then he was kissing her again, lips hot and greedy against hers. He only pulled away when he absolutely needed more air than he was getting, leaving them both flushed and panting.

“Wow,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his as they caught their breath. “That was…wow.”

He chuckled, breathily, and gently ran his hand down her arm to rest on her waist. “Wow,” he agreed, quietly, unable to stop himself from dipping his head a little and brushing his lips against hers softly once more. “By the way—minute’s up,” he murmured with an impish smile.

There was a click as he pulled the trigger and then a buzzing, whirling noise and the lights on Pria’s harness illuminated, blinking. Her eyes widened and she froze, processing what just happened.

“You just— _seriously?!_ ”

He laughed and stepped back as she gawked at him. “You underhanded, cheating _ass_!” she exclaimed indignantly. “I’m _so_ getting you back for that!”

“Promise?”

“Vengeance will be mine.”

There was another buzzing sound and suddenly Cullen’s harness lit up, and he looked down, startled. Pria brightened, “Oh, hey, look, I have someone avenging my honor for me!”

Cullen blinked and turned to look over his shoulder.

Dorian gave him a jaunty wave, “This saucy side of you is thoroughly enjoyable, Commander, and we must see it more often, but when it comes to laser-tag, you broke the sacred law and for that you had to die. Nothing personal.”

“Sacred law…?”

“Indeed. No one takes Pria out but me. Or vice versa. Now both of you get your pretty selves off the field so Cassandra and I can try and destroy one another.”

“Thank you, Dorian, my love, my only.”

“You are most welcome, Pria, my darling, my sweet.”

The man blew them both a kiss and ducked around the wall near him.

Cullen blinked again, “I can’t believe I let him get the drop on me. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“You are never going to hear the end of this,” she confirmed, taking his arm and gently pulling him along with her towards the exit of the arena, “And you’re probably going to turn beet red every time it’s mentioned.”

He grimaced, “If I stay perpetually drunk, how long until I die of alcohol poisoning?”

“I’m not answering that because I don’t want that to happen.”

“Comforting but not helpful.”

“Do I need to give you something else to think about?”

“Yes, because now it’s all just merciless taunting in my future that’s coming to mind.”

He found himself suddenly pushed back against the wall with her pressed against him, her leg between his and her hands on either side of his head. He swore that for a split second he stopped breathing because of the dark, heated look she gave him, and then her mouth had somehow found the one spot on his throat that made his knees go weak because he had to grab quickly onto her to steady himself as a soft moan escaped him.

“Maker,” he whispered shakily as she nibbled and kissed her way up his neck and jaw, gasped when she nipped sharply at his ear.

“Cullen,” she purred against it, running her tongue lightly along the curve, biting the lobe teasingly. “Ma ane ina’lan’ehn, Cullen. Ar nuvena ma.”

Her voice was soft and silky, honey-sweet as she murmured in his ear. He had no idea what she was saying, but the heated, husky tone was definitely giving him some ideas, and he felt himself getting hot and a little uncomfortable in his jeans. The way her thigh was pressing into him was not helping, but this felt too good to stop; he was enjoying the way her body was pressed into his, how she had him framed and pinned back, the tingling path her lips had left on his skin. The heat of her voice in his ear, whispering whatever it was she was saying.

“Ar nuvena sildeara ma, Cullen,” she hummed, arching her back and pressing her hips into his as her thigh ground into him. He couldn’t stop himself from tossing his head back and groaning softly, his hands moving to her hips and ass, pulling her into him. “Ar nuvena pala ma.”

“Pala em. Ar nuvena ma pala em.” Her hands slid down from the wall to his shoulders, continued lightly along his collar till they came to cradle his neck. She bit softly at his ear again, suckled briefly on the lobe, sending a thrill down his spine, “Ar nuvena ha’misa mar mein la’var ma pala em.”

“Pria,” he panted, “Stop teasing and kiss me.”

“Ask nicely,” she chided playfully, gave her thigh a little rub against him. He let out a sharp breath, “Maker’s breath— _please_.”

Her fingers moved, tangling in his hair and tilting his head as she kissed him fiercely, biting roughly at his lip and making him groan into her mouth as he sank into her. She devoured him, tongue teasing his, making him think of a few other things he wouldn’t mind her using it for, her nails scraping lightly over his scalp as her fingers combed through his hair. His hands clutched at her, sliding into her back pockets, finding the closeness of her still not enough, every nerve in his body singing for more, for the feel of skin-on-skin and the sound of her breath in his ear.

She pulled back, teeth running over his lip and tugging lightly as she did so, and he moaned softly, leaned in to kiss her again, settled for mouthing heatedly down her neck when she turned her head.

“Cullen,” she said, quietly. He hummed faintly, nipped lightly at her skin, felt her shiver and arch.

“Cullen,” she repeated, distractedly, “I think the match is over.”

“So?” he murmured huskily, sliding a hand up her back and around her ribs, found the harness in the way of resting under her breast. He made a slightly annoyed sound, and she stifled a laugh.

“Uhm…that means we should probably see if we’re playing another round? And I’m curious about who won.”

He frowned against her neck and pulled back a little to look at her. “I fail to see why they need us.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Would you rather they come looking and find us like this?”

He blinked, and finally managed to pull his mind far enough out of its gutter to glance around. He was still pressed against the wall, held in place by her (amazing, distracting) body, her (strong) thigh between his, and her hands at the back of his neck, where they’d settled. He still had one of his on her (fantastic) ass, the other on her ribs, and he suddenly realized that they both probably looked rather ruffled, hot, and bothered.

He felt his face flush, and he cleared his throat, “Oh.” _Dammit. I’m sobering up._

“Aw! You’re blushing again! Guess that means there will be no clothesless Cullen tonight.”

The heat in his face intensified and he cleared his throat again, moved his hands to a more neutral position at her waist, although his mind still noticed with great interest how well they nestled in the curve of it, and how she leaned further into him, rested against him.

“I’m not… _objectionable_ to the idea,” he muttered.

He was actually all for the idea of less clothes. Especially after what she had just done to him—he would like more of it, and then he wanted to return the favor. With interest.

Her ears perked a little, and Pria tilted her head as she looked at him curiously. “You don’t do casual,” she said quietly, “And I’m certainly not going to ask you to start.”

“There is _nothing_ ‘casual’ in what I feel about you, Pria.”

It slipped out before he could stop it, before he knew what he was saying, and his face flamed again after he said it. She was giving him a startled look, had clearly not been expecting such a blunt admission from him. _He_ hadn’t been expecting such a blunt admission from him.

Cullen pulled back from her, a little, dropping his hands from her waist and rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry,” he murmured, “That was…that was ill-timed.”

“A little,” she agreed with a small, silly grin, “Middle of a laser tag arena is sort of a hectic place for that sort of talk. Especially after drinking.”

He felt a faint leaden feeling start in his chest, sink into his stomach. He’d just made a right fool of himself. _If she didn’t feel the same way, she wouldn’t have kissed me like that. Right?_

But putting his feelings on her wasn’t fair. He knew she was significantly more comfortable with physical displays of affection, with physical intimacy, than he was. She didn’t mind a casual dalliance, didn’t mind flirting and kissing someone and then parting ways. He couldn’t just assume that because his heart raced from her merely standing beside him that hers did the same from his presence. They were friends—that might be all they would ever be.

He swallowed, roughly, suddenly realizing how much that hurt, and how much of a mistake he had just made.

_Fuck! This is why I don’t drink._

“Let’s join the others,” he said, quietly.

Her brow furrowed, and she made no move to step away from him, “What just went through your head?”

“Nothing. I’m just sobering up.”

“Don’t lie to me, Cullen.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Fine, but you’re not telling me everything, either.”

“Are we going to find the rest before they find us?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Pria, please.”

She made an irritated sound and pushed away from him, stepping back to cross her arms over her chest and stare at him. “Whatever you just thought, you are probably wrong,” she said, flatly.

He rolled his eyes, “Yes, because that’s such a good thing to say to someone without knowing what they’re thinking.”

“Then tell me!”

“It can wait—we’re in a laser tag arena.”

“I don’t think it can. By the time we get home, you’ll have walls built up and I’ll have to take a sledgehammer to them and we both know how that goes.”

“You’re the one who said this wasn’t a good place to talk!”

“I was trying to lighten the mood! You got serious on me!”

“What—” he sputtered, “Of _course_ I got serious on you, I blurted out something I shouldn’t have!”

“There is nothing wrong with what you said!”

“Not the time or place! For anything that just happened!”

“ _Excuse me?_ You _kissed me first_!”

“I was a little drunk, it seemed like a good idea at the time!”

“ _You only kissed me because you were drunk?_ ” She leveled an incredulous look at him and he felt a little wave of panic. “I—what— _no_! That is _not_ what I said!” he retorted, voice cracking a little, and if that didn’t make him feel foolish and sixteen again.

“But it’s what happened,” she persisted.

“Maker’s breath, are we _really_ having this discussion, _now_?”

“Yep. Because apparently that’s what needs to happen.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Don’t you even _fucking_ start, Rutherford.”

“Start _what_? We are _in the middle of an arena_!”

“ _No one actually worries about propriety when they’re arguing!”_

“ _I don’t want to argue!_ ”

“Then _talk to me_ , you _stubborn shem_!”

“I don’t know _how_ to, Pria!” he snapped, the words once again tumbling out before he had a chance to think or stop them. She froze, annoyance evaporating from her face, leaving her looking startled, again.

Cullen growled in annoyance, ran his hands through his hair roughly as he pushed away from the wall and took a few steps away, taking a deep, slow breath.

She turned slightly to watch him, frowned at the tension in his shoulders and back. “Are you…afraid of me?” she asked, quietly, after several moments. The tension in him got worse, she saw him flinch slightly, and she bit her lip.

He _was_ afraid. That hurt.

“It’s not… _you_ ,” he replied softly, after a moment, “It’s…it’s what I feel when I’m _with_ you. You’re more than a friend, Pria, and I’m…” he shook his head, exhaled heavily before turning to look back at her, “I’m terrified that you don’t feel the same way.”

She let out a breath she’d been holding. “ _Creators_ ,” she muttered, and fell back against the wall, feeling relief wash over her, “Don’t _scare me_ like that.”

He shifted, uncertainly, nervously, “Like…what?”

“I thought you were afraid of _me_. You know, mage and all. I was about to start kicking myself.”

“I don’t see you as that—I mean, I _know_ , but…you’ve never been… _just_ a mage.”

“Look, you have your insecurities, I have mine.”

He smiled, faintly, “I wish I was half as good at hiding them.”

Pria laughed and pushed away from the wall, walked over to him, “I think hiding them is how we wound up arguing in the middle of a laser tag field.”

He made a small, non-committal sound and looked away, rubbed the back of his neck again.

“Cullen.” She gently set a hand against his chest, felt a tremor go through him, “There is nothing casual in what I feel for you, either. I’m crazy about you.”

His head snapped up, eyes fastening to hers in surprise, his lips parted faintly. She laughed, “Babe, we have _got_ to work on how much credit you give yourself.”

“Say it again.”

“We have to work on how much credit you give yourself?”

“No—before that.”

She blinked before smiling, “I’m _crazy_ about you.”

A silly, boyish grin split his face, one that made her laugh again. “Seriously, about that credit—”

He interrupted her with a clumsy kiss, hands cradling her neck, nose bumping against hers. “Ow,” she protested.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, blushing, “Sorry, that was bad.”

“I mean, it’s not the worst ever, but you can definitely do better.”

“Try again?”

“Oh, definitely.”

Cullen smiled, and leaned back in, his mouth just a heart-beat away—

 “ _There_ you two are!” Cassandra exclaimed in exasperation “We’ve been looking everywhere. Come on, we are ready for the next round. I owe the Tevinter.”

“ _Dammit, Cass_ ,” Cullen muttered. Pria snickered, and kissed the scar on his lip, “To be continued.”

She took his hand, and the pair followed Cassandra back towards the starting point after picking up their respective laser guns. Cullen curled his fingers through hers, squeezed gently and got one in return. A warm, airy feeling was making its way through his body; she felt the same for him. They could start there. That was something. Those kisses hadn’t just been alcohol fueled idiocy.

Speaking of those kisses…

“By the way,” he said, quietly as they moved into the taped off square, “What does…’pala em’ mean?”

Haldir, near them, suddenly jerked his head around, eyes wide, ears alert. Pria smirked.

“It means ‘fuck me’,” she said blithely as all their harnesses whirred as the lights on them reset, “I said ‘I wanted you to fuck me’. Among other things.”

Cullen felt his entire face go red as his stomach flipped into a mass of butterflies and his brain suffered a series of pratfalls and stumbles that left it lying in a useless heap. Haldir snorted, and began laughing. “Oh,” he murmured, voice very quiet, and his mind very much scrambling to get back on track. Pria smiled wolfishly as the starting bell sounded and everyone around them scattered.

“Truce is up, babe,” she chirped, and pulled the trigger.

There was a whirring sound and the harness around his chest lit up brightly, marking him as the first victim of the round. She blew him a kiss and darted away.

“Just so you know—I’m not translating anything else she told you,” Haldir said, “But please tell me before you ask her to do so, because I want to be there to watch. The expression on your face right now? _Priceless_.”

The elf clapped him companionably on the shoulder and then ran off into the arena. Cullen, still feeling a little dazed, dragged a hand through his hair and made his way out to sit along the sidelines to wait for the round to finish. He had some things to think about, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a smidgen from a larger arc that's sort of bouncing about in my head. I may end up writing more from it, one day, I don't know, but for now I had fun with laser tag and beer. Also, dirty-talk Pria. Whew! The Elvhen might not be exact since I used a translator, but I think it's close enough that the message gets across. Either way, methinks the Commander was a-okay with it.
> 
> If you're curious about "Weelia Wallia", it's an older Irish little ditty that involves pen knives and dead babies. If you think I'm joking, go ahead and Google it, but beware because it is a catchy, dark little tune. I've been humming it for a week, now, ever since an Irishman taught it to me. Thanks, Gav. Thanks bunches.
> 
> I guess if any of you out there enjoy it enough and want to see more of this world, give me a shout? I'll see what my brain can dig up.


End file.
